


This Cruel, Tender Thing

by dietplainlite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, F/M, Loss of Powers, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fill, Reunions, Reylo - Freeform, those pesky ysalamiri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/pseuds/dietplainlite
Summary: Rey is sent to get answers from an imprisoned Ben Solo, but she doesn't know the questions, and they're both cut off from the Force.  Will their connection survive?





	This Cruel, Tender Thing

**Author's Note:**

> From an anonymous prompt on Tumblr: meeting again after a year
> 
> This story is complete. I have no plans to continue it.

She asks them to take the ysalamir away during her visit, but her request is denied.

“General Dameron’s orders,” Captain Connix says as they make their way to the brig.  “It’s too risky.”

“But that means I can’t access the Force either,” Rey argues. “It would be helpful to my interrogation.”

“Understandable, but it’s still too big a risk.”

“I’ve beaten him in combat before.”

“Of course, but there’s no guarantee you could do it again, or that other unforeseen circumstances won’t arise.” She looks down at her data pad, avoiding eye contact.

“I see.” Clearly, the issue isn’t only that Poe doesn’t trust Ben Solo. It’s that he doesn’t trust Rey around Ben Solo.

There’s a good chance his caution isn’t misplaced.

She braces herself as she walks into the brig, having no idea what to expect when she’s close enough to the ysalamir for it affect her.

It happens all at once, like a generator going off in a room and leaving it in eerie silence. She’s only been aware of her connection to the Force for a little over a year but getting cut off is akin to losing her sight or hearing, senses she’s taken for granted her entire life. She leans against the wall and puts her hands on her knees, overcome by a wave of dizziness.

“Are you okay?” Connix asks, her tone softening, sounding more like the friend who’s accompanied Rey on recruiting missions.

“I need a moment.” Ben has been here for five days; he must be going mad. She peels herself off the wall and continues to his cell. “Can you give us a few minutes alone?” she asks, when they reach it.

“I’m sorry but—”

“Please,” she says. “If he’s feeling half as bad as I feel now—I think he’ll be more willing to talk if it’s just me.”

Connix looks down the hall, then back at Rey, and sighs. “Okay. Five minutes. I’ll be right around the corner.” Rey hands over her blaster and Connix keys in the code to the door. “Just hit the green button when you’re ready.”

Rey isn’t ready.

The door is like all the others on this block. There could be anyone on the other side of it. She hasn’t been able to feel his signature at all. She didn’t even know he was here when she came back from her mission, until Finn told her. But time is slipping by, so she presses the green button.

A panel in the door slides open, revealing a pane of transparisteel with a smattering of air holes drilled in. Through it, she glimpses a dimly lit room. He’s sitting on a small cot with his head in his hands. He looks up, and his face cycles between despair and hope and anger, finally settling on an immense sadness. He stands up and walks to the door, eyes locked on hers. His hair is limp, and the circles under his eyes are as dark as bruises.  When he stops in front of the door, she sees that they are bruises.

“Who did that to you?”

“Does it matter?” he asks, his voice as low and soft as she remembers.

“Yes.”

“Someone who thought I deserved it. Does that narrow it down?”

“Cowards,” she says, through gritted teeth. “Disabling you and then doing that, they’re no better—”

“You think I couldn’t take them anyway? That I need the Force?”

She’s seen him fight, how he relies as much on his bodily strength as it does on his connection to the Force. “You just let them?”

He shrugs. “I beat one up, someone else comes in and puts a bolt in my head.”

Rey puts her hand on the window, and he does the same, pressing his hand against hers.

She can’t feel anything. They once touched hands across millions of light years, and now she can’t feel him through millimeters of glass. She lets go of the tears she’s been holding back. His eyes glisten, but he doesn’t break.

“What are they going to do to you?”

“I thought you might be able to tell me.”

“They won’t tell me anything. I’m supposed to interrogate you, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to find out.”

“Probably whatever you can. I haven’t been talking.”

“Why did you surrender, then?”

“If I say I’ll only talk to you, will they let you come every day?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell them this, when you go back: There’s a second ship yard in Wild Space. It’s smaller, and since it’s so remote, not as secure. I’ll give you the coordinates tomorrow.”

“I—okay but—” Connix appears around the corner, and Rey drops her hand from the window and wipes her eyes. “Um, he gave me some information, but he won’t tell me the rest until tomorrow. I need to speak to Poe.” She looks through the window. Ben has stepped back from the door, standing straight, features blank.

Connix looks him over, eyebrow raised. “Well, this should be interesting.” She presses a red button.

The last Rey sees of him, he’s still standing, with his head bowed, but he looks up, catching her eye as the panel slides shut. Perhaps tomorrow—if she’s allowed to see him tomorrow—she can convince Poe to let them sit across from each other at a table. She looks back once as she follows Connix, but his door is indistinguishable from the other doors.

Stepping out of the ysalamir’s bubble is like emerging into the sun from the bowels of a star destroyer. She stops, closing her eyes, energy flowing into her with each breath. She reels again from the weight of it.

“Do you need to stop in at the med bay?”

“No. No, I feel incredible. I just want to talk to Poe.”

As they cross the field separating the brig from the command center, something creeps into her already full heart, something she hadn’t noticed the absence of until it comes crashing back.

It’s something like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Serenade" by Paul Verlaine


End file.
